The Complicated Story of the Harvard Soldier and the Spy Nanny
by wanonymous
Summary: After training the new Avengers, Steve Rogers resumes his search for the Winter Soldier, with Sam right behind him, but months pass and they disappear too. Meanwhile, Natasha is physically out on the field again but her mind is not. It gets even more confusing when she becomes the nanny to one of her enemies' child, but the cherry on top: finding Steve, who insists he isn't Steve.
1. Soldier Among Spies

Okay, I've been stuck in the anime section for too long, which should've been okay, but no, I was a real person who saw real people movies and ended up doing ships. You should've seen me cringe at myself when I realized my YouTube What to Watch was full of ships and tributes.

Anyway, this was a spontaneous decision, but fueled from two of my favorite videos: 1) S Veronica's Wings- Birdy (ROMANOGERS) and 2) Erin Sully's Evansson/ La da dee

At least I put the Youtuber and the exact title rather than put spaces on the url. Sometimes it doesn't even work.

Fair warning, it's my first time with action and adventure(?), I'm sorry.

* * *

 **1: Soldier among Spies**

 _But I knew him._

"As maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't." Steve could hear himself, almost see himself pity his own failure at, as he had put it, 'finding someone with shared life experiences'. He looked down at the floor. "You both deserve a win."

Captain America opened his eyes. He was in a different room this time; the lack of fresh air and sunlight told him that. He almost opened his mouth to instinctually ask for any nearby presence except 1) he was gagged as he finally took noticed of the cloth keeping his mouth from doing anything useful, and 2) doing so would only encourage danger. He closed his eyes in an attempt to refresh his memory while still looking unconscious.

" _Called in a few favors from Kiev…you might not want to pull on that thread."_

 _Bucky._

Sam was with him, but when the investigation trailed to a forking path, the two agreed to split, seeing as it was a quicker and more effective option. Besides, even if they thought otherwise, there was a fifty percent chance the Russian branch of HYDRA might have done something to Sam before Steve could save him.

Just like how they had done to Bucky, which had explained how he had survived the fall.

"We know you are awake, Captain," A heavy Russian accent drawled from his left. There were faint footsteps on his right. There was either one person or two of them. Maybe even more. "Although," Russians were tricky; Natasha's mere being as one explained much of that. "We do not know why you are here." Captain America tried to listen to breathing patterns in the hopes of maybe hearing more inaudible gasps other than the speaker's. As if they'd read his mind, the Russian removed the cloth to include Steve's own breathing in the mix.

Like he had thought, Russians were tricky.

"And we do not like to not be able to know."

Steve opened his eyes. Of course they'd keep the room at a low light so they could see him but he couldn't track them. These agents were so good that Steve could have almost given up. As he had been told by an expert liar-slash-manipulator, Captain America was not a very good liar. But nobody ever told him he was very good at telling the truth either. "I came here on an assignment."

He could hear three, four breaths hitching. Good, they were letting their guard down. "Looking for more information regarding one of Zola's experiments."

"All of Dr. Zola's creations were either destroyed or lost in the war. There is nothing left for you to salvage."

"Captain Rogers, if you do not tell us immediately your purpose for infiltration, we have no other choice but to use the serum on you."

That was a different voice altogether. His best bet on the number of people in the room was at most six.

"I came here to look for the Winter Soldier." Now Steve was not the type to gamble, but at this point, he felt very much prepared to risk anything in order to get out of the room and at best find Sam and do more running and hiding.

At worst, he could get killed right then and there.

Immediately the pacing footsteps stopped, and Steve took that as his cue to break free from his electric chair-esque restraints and blindly beat the living daylights out of these agents. He was improving with his echolocation too, with thanks from the shady female spy herself, as he felt more than eight jaws connect with his gloves. He'd heard a rapid-fire command in Russian that sounded like, 'stop him' (again, thanks to Romanoff) before he'd put that jaw to the ground as well.

Then he felt the sting of an electric charge on the back of his neck, similar to the one Rumlow had used on him in the elevator, and he fell for the second time.

" _We have to wipe him. He knows too much."_ It was much easier to concentrate on translating when your eyes were closed and you didn't have to focus on trying to escape.

" _What of the Avengers? They will come looking for him."_

" _Give him a new identity; send him somewhere close to New York."_

" _But that will only make it easier for the Avengers!"_

The voice laughed humorlessly at the other. _"They know he was last seen in Europe, so they will look for him there. They will come to us, and it will be easy dealing with the Avengers."_

When the agent holding him down registered that the American was still awake, he shocked him once more for good measure. This time, Steve stayed down.

* * *

Hm. This seems unbelievably short. But trust me the chapters get longer and more improved. An action movie and a romance one seem pretty not so outrageous when you think about it, 'cause most people actually _do_ look for the romance part in any genre.

Have fun spectating while you're at it, though!

-Strawbeariiis


	2. Miss, Spy, Soldier

You guys should really watch Nanny Diaries before reading. And Age of Ultron. Even if it was bad. I forgot to put that on my author's note too…oops. I hope I didn't spoil anyone. Heh.

How was chapter one? Of course I'm going to ask because I get really anxious over everything.

* * *

 **2: Miss, Spy, Soldier**

 _Who do you want me to be?_

"Morning, sunshine," Entered the annoyingly assertive voice of Tony Stark, philanthropist extraordinaire, into the old Avengers kitchen. "Still no news of the Capsicle?"

"If I knew, I'd be posting on Twitter." Grumbled the Russian as she downed two more bites of her turkey leg. What? Girl's gotta eat what a girl's gotta eat. With eyes still closed from last night's sleep deprivation, she all but listened to the small sound of an object brushing against fabric as Tony grabbed his phone from his pocket and checked on something. "What's your handle name?"

"Hey, Astro Boy, why don't you try to not get us all killed in the tower this early in the morning?" Clint interjected, munching on his oatmeal beside Tasha. The two liked having their meals on the kitchen island, where it was both big and small enough for just the two of them. They also had a good visual on everyone in the room, since the kitchen was at the corner of it.

"I personally think that nickname's way better for Fix-it Felix over there," Tony jabbed a thumb in Thor's direction, the god himself enjoying four plates of the standard American breakfast. "Astro and stuff."

"The kid has rocket boots, Stark," The blonde archer snorted at him. Tony shrugged and made himself a cup of coffee.

After the events at Sokovia, Steve reluctantly putting his search for the Winter Soldier on hold for the sake of the scepter, the old Avengers tower wasn't as safe to both its residents and its neighbors, and yet again the billionaire among the group offered to handle the financial department of building a new headquarters somewhere else more desolated. Most of the time, though, the Avengers spent their days in the New York Avengers tower, the old one, as it was more comfortable with less people coming up to them to sign what and track who and whatnot. Right after Natasha and the Captain had trained the new members of the Avengers, the American directly flew back to who knew where to resume his search.

None of the remaining Avengers could blame him, of course. They fully punished Natasha instead. They had nagged her for days on end with questions about the Captain and when he was going to be back and why he wouldn't send post cards and hey, how about Brucey eh, and does it suck to be just Clint's work-wife 'cause you guys have a thing, and on and on and on.

Did she forget to mention that Tony was the only one who was an ass enough to be relentless about it?

Sometimes the redhead could handle it, because she usually left it to Barton to go and warn them before she bit their fingers. On other days, Thor would find Tony stuck under Mjolnir (because yes, inanimate objects were apparently worthy and that was how the Widow could haul the hammer around), or Clint would take out his phone and take shots of his arrows lodged in places Tony almost wished he wasn't born with.

Natasha was actually really glad to be the most active among the Avengers. She liked to be productive, she liked being useful. And while Fury would poke at the Captain's whereabouts as well, the Black Widow wouldn't budge.

She'd given those files to Steve because he'd asked. And he had asked for them because she knew.

It was as simple as that, but so complicated altogether. Most of the time the Widow was not one to spoonfeed her teammates their needs, nor was she the type to help, despite the many different times they had helped her. It was difficult to trust people when even you knew you couldn't trust yourself.

But she owed him. He had saved her life when back then she wouldn't have cared to do the same for his.

" _If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?"_

" _I would now."_

Damn it. She wished she could say they were even now, but asking for help from her little Russian buddies had meant that she had done something of her own accord, fully aware that her debt to Captain America had already been repaid, yet she had still pushed through. Although she hated to acknowledge it, she had helped Steve of her own volition, with no regard whatsoever as to how this was going to affect their relationship as teammates in the future. Who knew he might've thought it was okay to keep asking for favors from her now and then?

Natasha cursed again, this time in Russian.

"Language," Barton taunted in Russian as well. She looked up from her turkey bone to meet the archer's eyes. They seemed to ask the question that she had been trying to avoid for a while. Clint was eventually going to figure out anyway if she evaded him then, except she'd be compromised once more if she let the charade go any further.

"Just so you know, JARVIS has Google Translate on the tab, so, uh," Interrupted Ironman as he tapped the glass rectangle called his phone. Taking his cue, the AI replied. "I don't think I would want to say the word Agent Romanoff had just used, sir."

"What about Katniss over here?"

"Agent Barton said something Captain Rogers had said to you in one of your earlier trips to Sokovia."

It took the dark-haired man a while to register which one of Rogers' statements it was, but Barton had completely lost himself, forcing the woman beside him to rub his back before he fell into a coughing fit. " _Gosh darn it, Barton_ ," Tony put his knuckles on his hips mockingly and jutted to one side. "And here I was, thinking Red was the only one missing our American flag."

"Speak for yourself, Tin Man," Bid the female agent as she headed for the sink to dump her empty plate on. At this point Clint was slapping the table, his knee, anything he could get his tingly hands on, but the Widow knew better as she listened to the patterned taps and wheezes of the blonde.

" _Don't hide it."_

* * *

Ooh, I really like this. I mean, I hate Brutasha – it's unnatural and disgusting and Scarlett agreed on it too. Like she got confused about the script on AoU. Geez, I want to file a restraining order for Natasha Romanoff from Whedon. That was not a good call, bro. NOT GOOD.

-Strawbeariiis


	3. Spy the Soldier

I think I'm on an inspired roll here. I basically dumped most of my other ongoing projects to pursue this one 'cause I'm so terrified of losing streak. Sorry, fans of the other stories! D:

Yeah , but how's this one going? I'm not yet a shame to the world of fanfiction writers?

* * *

 **3: Spy the Soldier**

 _Big man, in a suit of armor…take that away, what are you?_

Hayden wasn't a very big fan of sleeping in, especially since he had a reputation to maintain as a Harvard alumnus and as a typical "boy scout", as most of his neighbors had described him. Other than that, he always had recurring nightmares about war, the Nazis, costumed people, a very specific plane crash and literal cold feet.

He often woke up confused and with a headache curable enough with home-brewed coffee.

"Morning, Hayden!" Smiled the bellboy as the elevator dinged open for the now refreshed graduate. The blonde grinned back at him with his coat tucked smartly on the crook of his left arm as he pressed on the button of his destined floor. "What brings you up here, Manuel?"

"Oh, I bet you didn't hear: The X's fired their nanny again," The older man, for his age, had the knowledge of all the residents living on that certain building of the Upper East Side, seeing as he was the most approachable employee there was. It was a great way to pass the time and earn tips.

"I really don't think you should be gossiping on other people, Manuel; it's not necessarily part of the job," The blonde gave a chirpy smile to him as they both waited for the box to make a stop. The addressee replied to him with a knowing chuckle. "I'm not sure if it were the nine nannies you had growing up or the Harvard bosses that make you so Mr. Nice Guy, kid."

Hayden Groser's baby blue eyes crinkled at the remark. "For as long as I can remember, I just wanted to do what was right."

In that instant, his head buzzed at something. He almost lost his footing, but thankfully recovered when his free hand clutched for the handrail in the elevator. Manuel, fully aware that this _was_ the first time something had made the buff Ken doll stagger, quickly rushed to his aid. "Hay—"

"N-No, I'm fine; this happens sometimes…" The more alarmed look that Manuel had sported made Hayden want to slap himself in the face if it weren't for his migraine.

" _You were always so dramatic," She laughed._

Immediately the buzzing in his head worsened, flashes of a bedridden woman with gray hair and an English accent came and went, and there were more scenes of seeing a man in black getting shot in an apartment, about how there were ears everywhere, and—

"Hayden? Hayden, you up, kid?"

The boy in question clenched his eyes closed, tighter than they already had been, assessed the condition of his body, and tried to remember basic information about his self.

His name was Hayden Groser, he was twenty-five, and fresh out of Harvard.

He had blue eyes and yellow hair. He was six foot two, and weighed somewhere around two hundred pounds – but he'd lost some ever since the nightmares, so he couldn't be too sure.

Other than that, he felt fine. He was okay. He was in the Upper East Side, riding an elevator on his way to work back at the University. Hayden felt the quick thumping of his heart gradually come to a more regular speed and he opened his eyes once more.

Manuel stooped over him, eyebrows compressed together in the center as a sign of the old man's growing agitation. "How long was I out?"

"'Round five, maybe eight minutes,"

Hayden stood up and checked if his coat was in the same crisp condition as it had been and was relieved to see that it was. When he looked back to check in with his companion, Manuel had a mildly amused look on his face. "You care more about the coat than yourself?"

The blonde could only offer a sheepish grin.

* * *

When the elevator finally dinged to let the two of them out, Manuel had stopped the kid from leaving until they both had a good assessment of him, and that if anything ever happened, he should call Manuel, and more assurances were uttered along the way. Hayden hadn't much memory of his parents, since his dad was out traveling constantly, and his mother had died of tuberculosis when he was younger. Manuel and the entirety of the apartment staff compensated for it.

Not to mention the nine nannies he had had when he was younger.

As the bellboy headed to pick up Mrs. X's new set of shopping bags, he made a short detour to the concierge, ready to openly flirt with one of the attendants present. The one named Maria.

"Hayden's so pure, but I worry about that kid. Said he sometimes blacks out,"

The dark-haired woman jumped up in unfiltered yet unnecessary excitement, her bangs copying the action. "Was I right about the Greek dragons?"

"Maybe," Manuel smirked, but the woman across him was not fazed. "Did you hear about the X's? They fired their nanny for apparently throwing away Grayer's pet. Kid wants a black widow."

"Bit dangerous for someone his age, don't you think?" Maria readjusted herself on her stool. Because being a concierge was a temporary job, she didn't really mind sucking at it. She preferred her place in upstate New York where she was more permitted to run about.

Manuel snorted in response. "In the Upper East Side, sweetheart, you give the brat what he wants."

* * *

Maria's eyes trailed after the bellboy's retreating figure as he greeted the newly arrived Mrs. X and took multiple shopping bags into his meaty hands. As the two exchanged glances one more time, she decided it was about time she shared the news.

It had been a while since they'd put Black Widow on the field.

"Potty break," Maria chirped to her seatmate as she hopped off her seat and skittered in whatever speed her work heels permitted her to rush to the back, to the employees' lounge.

The addressee picked up on the fourth ring. "Hey, it's Maria, how are the kids?"

" _A working mess. How are the Fourth of July plans?"_

"Still a working progress, but on the other hand," Maria Hill propped a free hand on her hip. "I think I found you a cute guy up here in the Upper East Side. Think you can come over for a while?"

" _You know I'm already in."_

* * *

Okay, well I'm sure you guys are smart so for people like me who are pretty slow in the espionage department (like hell I had to keep revising the dialogue to try to make it clear but subtle, yeah, sure, see how that worked out), since the exchange between Manuel and Maria Hill has been like a code. I guess it's not that hard to decipher, I mean spiders and patriotism and all.

I hope.

Please leave a comment, let me know how much of a failure this already became…

(Kinda listened to Pierce the Veil as I worked)

-Strawbeariiis


End file.
